Girl of Your Dreams
by Sweetafelita
Summary: Benoit found someone who he really loves. But is she his to keep? Not really, especially when Triple H would do anything in his power to keep them apart.
1. Through the Hotel Doors

Title: Girl of Your Dreams

Author: Me (The Angel)

Rating: R

Warnings: Violence, language, (and I mean LANGUAGE…the kind that makes South Park seem like Barney). 

Disclaimer: Okay, HHH, Trish, and Benoit fans…I will accept the flames…But give me a chance. I need to write a really angsty fic, so here it is, okay? Shut your mouth and read. Vince McMahon, my God, owns everything.

*

01.

"Did you see the match?" 

"Some of it. Not all." 

"Oh. What did you see?" 

"I saw you get your ass kicked around the ring and back." 

"So you didn't see me pull the crossface?" 

"When did you do that?" 

"Never mind." 

Benoit sighed and stared at the lovely Trish Stratus. He wanted to pull this match off, to impress her, to show that he really was worthy…And she did see the match. Only the part he didn't want her to see. 

"Hey," She said when she noticed his discomfort; "it's okay. Really." She grinned and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I enjoyed the match. It's not every day you see The Crippler get his ass whooped." 

"Are you mocking me?" He asked her. She chuckled delicately. "Now why would I do a thing like that?" He sighed. "It is okay, isn't it?" He asked worriedly. "I mean, everyone has an off day, right?" 

"Everyone has an off day." She confirmed. She then noticed that he was bleeding. "Chris, you're bleeding." She said, concerned. She leaned in to take a closer look. Chris's head snapped to his chest, where he was, indeed, bleeding freely. 

He shrugged. "I got that earlier in the match. Jericho ripped the ladder into my chest." She frowned. She sucked at her teeth for a minute. "You need medical attention. That can grow into a nasty infection." 

"Relax, Trish. I am okay." He shrugged her off. "Besides, this has to be the least of my worries right now." 

"What's the most?" Trish asked, genuinely interested.

"Getting the title back. Since, you know, it's rightfully _mine._" Benoit hissed. 

"Relax. You can always win the title back. Right now, you need to get stitched up." Trish grabbed his hand and pulled him up. She handed him a tissue. "Use this to wipe the blood." 

Benoit raised his eyebrow, but took the tissue. "Kleenex?" He asked. 

"Puffs." 

"I should have known."

Trish shrugged. "You don't really seem like the 'tissue man' to tell you the truth." 

He frowned. "I am not?" 

She rolled her eyes. "No. You're a hopeless cause." She grinned. "Come on, you're going to the EMT." Benoit normally would not listen to a woman. He would have slammed her to the ground and put the crossface on her. 

"What's the EMT going—" 

"TRISH!" Benoit's sentence was cut off by a snarling voice. Benoit looked up from Trish to see the very face he didn't want to see. "Hello, Hunter." 

"Benoit." Hunter hissed. He looked at Trish. "Do you know I have been looking all over you? Vince was going to have a heart attack." He grabbed her wrist. Trish looked at Benoit, and then Hunter again. 

"Sorry," She mumbled, "I wanted to take Benoit to the EMT. He has a really nasty cut." 

Hunter's eyes flickered. "Benoit can take himself to the EMT." His grip tightened. Trish cried out in pain. "Can't he?" 

"Yes," Trish gulped, "he can." 

Benoit stood there, watching the two. "Let her go, Man." He said. He stepped in the space that separated Trish and Hunter. Hunter glared at Benoit. "What did you say to me?" 

"I said, let her go." Benoit repeated himself, firmly and louder than before. Trish looked on in horror. 

"Why don't you mind your own business, you sorry motherfucker?" Hunter pushed Benoit into a wall. "And stay out of our little discussion. If you want to live, you will." Hunter spat. He walked away with Trish. 

Benoit didn't know what he was about to get himself into. 

*

Tears stung in Trish's eyes. Her wrist was killing her. Hunter had put on a very strong grip. "Bet you little Billion Dollar Princess would press charges against you," She murmured very softly as Hunter scolded her. 

"What? Speak up, you bitch." Hunter said. He didn't know why he did this to Trish. He was married to Stephanie. But that was only because he was forced to. He really did like Trish, and he'd make sure that she'd like him. 

"I didn't say anything," Trish's voice broke. She knew that if he kept on with the verbal abuse, she'd start crying. And she'd never cry in front of Hunter. 

"Don't talk unless I tell you that you can talk. Got it?" Hunter said, pressing his big face into hers. She turned away and closed her eyes. "Yes," She whispered. 

Hunter smirked at her. "What? I didn't hear you." 

"YES!" She screamed. 

He then pushed her against the bedpost. "I didn't tell you, you could talk." He laughed sadistically. Trish rubbed the bump that she got from the bedpost. 

Hunter threw on his jacket. "Where are you going?" Trish asked. Stephanie was out with Vince, and Trish didn't want to stay in the room by herself. "Out. Maybe get a beer or two. You stay here." 

"I don't want to be alone." 

"Tough shit." Hunter grabbed his wallet and his keys. "Don't sneaking out on me, slut. No going to Benoit's room or Jeff's room. Got it?" Before she could answer, he was out the door. 

She heard his footsteps by the elevator. When she was sure he was gone, she quietly walked towards the door and tried to open it. He had locked her in. "Son of a bitch." She muttered. 

It was no use. She'd have to stay. She heard the nearby noises of other hotel rooms. She heard Matt and Lita arguing, she heard Spike shaving. A slight knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. 

"W-Who is it?" 

"It's Benoit. Open the door." 

"I can't." 

"Is Hunter with you?" 

"No, but he locked me in." 

"That bastard." 

They whispered their conversation through the hotel door. Even though Trish wanted to be out there, hearing his voice and knowing that he was on the other side made her feel a bit more secure. 

"Do you know when he will be back?" Benoit asked. 

"I don't know. He went out for a few beers. He probably won't be back until late. Stephanie should be here soon, though." 

"Shit." 

"You better go. Stephanie will tell Hunter you were here, and then…Well, I don't want to think about what Hunter would do if he finds out."

"Why is Hunter so protective of you? Isn't he married?" 

"He is, but he doesn't love Stephanie. And she doesn't love him either. They married for the sake of the company. Hunter claims he loves me." 

"If he loved you he wouldn't have bruised your wrists so badly in the hall." 

"Exactly." 

They stayed silent for a few minutes. They could hear the crickets start to chirp outside. 

"You better go," Trish whispered again. 

"All right. Are you sure you'll be okay?" 

"Positive," Trish lied. 


	2. You're Still The Only One

(Disclaimer: "Only One" belongs to Lifehouse, one of the best bands on the planet.)

02.

Benoit couldn't help it. He kept thinking about their meeting in the hall, and then the brief one through the doors. He knew he shouldn't think of her like that, but he had to keep coming back for more. 

He had heard the rumors about her, but it was up to him whether to believe them. And after a few talks with her, he knew that he couldn't believe it if he wanted to. 

But the thing he didn't understand at all was—Hunter. Hunter had this beautiful girl obeying his every command, and he treated her like garbage. What the hell was wrong with him? 

Someday, Benoit thought bitterly, this is all going to come back and bite him in the ass. He had a way of knowing these things, and he knew that this was going to come to haunt him. 

He tried to get his thoughts back to Trish. She was very pretty, and she was quite intelligent. She had told Benoit once that if she wasn't wrestling, she would have gone to medical school. Benoit had some of the best conversations with her. 

She was open minded and tried to look at things from any perspective. She was also insightful; she knew what was going on. When with Benoit, she seemed headstrong and strong willed. But when Hunter came to retrieve her, she seemed weak and pitiful. 

It was like she transformed. She was a plaything to Vince and Hunter, and seemed so fragile, to be handled with care. But they just tossed her around so she could easily break. They WANTED her to break. 

_// She's got a pretty smile _

It covers up the poison

That she hides // 

There was something about her that Benoit both loved and hated at the same time. She could put her best face forward for the world when she was slowly crumbling. Benoit admired it. She was able not to show her feelings. He also detested it. She was secretly screaming for help, but still remained helpless. 

Benoit shook his head of these thoughts. When did he get so thoughtful? When did he start to care? It was a feeling to care for someone. Especially someone like Trish. And Benoit knew that Hunter could take him down, any day, but he feel superior when standing up for her. 

Things were always so complicated. He remembered the first time he met Trish, two years ago…He should have known that there was something oddly different about her. A good different. 

_'Meet the newest addition to the WWF team, and the newest diva, Miss Trish Stratus,' Vince led the lost looking blonde into the team room. The staff clapped, but the women gave her hateful glares as if to say, 'you slut. Whore. Go back to where you came from.' As if to say, she wasn't welcomed. _

Benoit stared at her. She looked intelligent. Intelligent enough to be a doctor or professor. Not a wrestler. But he could see why Vince had chose her. 

She was beautiful. Long golden blonde hair that fell around her shoulders. A sculpted face, and a very nice figure. 

"Hello," Benoit mouthed. Then he wanted to kick himself. A rabid wolverine never made the first move. 

She waved delicately. Vince grabbed her hand. "Have a seat, Trish." She should have known that Vince was someone to keep both eyes out for. 

After the meeting, Benoit came up to her. "Hey. I am Chris Benoit." He stuck out his hand. 

She took it. "Trish Stratus." 

"Stratus? Like the cloud?" Benoit asked. 

Trish smiled. "Well, it's not my real name. My real name is Patricia Stratigus." 

"Can I call you Trish?" 

"Sure." 

They clicked. He had warned her about Vince and Hunter. "What about them?" She asked him over coffee. "Well," Benoit said, "sleep with one eye open. They'll do just about anything to get a pretty girl like you in their grasp." 

Too bad she didn't take that advice. Vince had told her if she wanted to keep her job, she'd listen to everything Hunter and himself had to say. 'If you were smart,' Vince told her, 'you'd do it. Because we can easily throw you on your slutty ass.'

After that, she changed. She was still bright and the same Trish, but she was always paler. She feared more things. Vince and Hunter corrupted her. 

_// She walks around in _

Circles in my head

Waiting for a chance to break me //

Sometimes he wondered if Trish was in a secret pact with Vince, and she would turn on him any minute. But then he heard her sexy and sultry laugh, and her worries, and he knew that definitely wasn't the case. 

He could spot her out from a crowd of millions of people. She always had on a long glossy hat, and a matching coat or long sweater to match. On other people, that would look horrible. On her, it fit. 

"What the hell am I doing?" He whispered. "You're talking like you're falling for her," He scolded himself. As much as he didn't want to believe it, he knew it wasn't far from the truth. 

He thought he knew more about her than he knew about himself. He knew her favorite color was pink, he knew her favorite food was pizza, and he knew that she had a weakness for soap operas. 

If she was trying to break him down like Hunter wanted her to, she was doing a very good job by making him believe the opposite. 

_// A chance to take me down _

Now I see, the burden that you gave me 

Is too much to carry // 

She planted something on him. She gave him the burden of being in love with her. Benoit didn't know if he could handle such a heavy task. It was too much for his heart. But he loved every thing about her. How her high heeled shoes would scrap the floor and make scuff marks. How she always fingered the rim of a coffee cup before taking a sip. 

He knew she was different. She knew she was different. Now if only Vince and Hunter knew it. 

It was the way she carried herself. It was different from the others. The way she entered the ring and did a match, it was different than the others. She could pull off stunts that no one else could do, in ring and out of the ring. 

She was the only one. 

_// Too much to bury inside_

I guess you're the only one

That nobody changes // 

The only one that everyone left alone. The only one that people seemed to be afraid to touch; for fear they would mess her up. She was like a delicate china doll. 

She was made of iron. When the world fall apart around her, there she was, standing tall. She took pride in that. She had once told Benoit: 

"I have a way of being able to overcome things. Sometimes, it's the greatest thing. Other times, I wish that I let those obstacles get in my way." 

He had still yet to understand what that meant, but it sounded so good in his ears. It was like something out of a book, something that every human being should live by. She said it was her personal quote. 

_// You're still the only one _

Left standing

When everything else goes down // 

And, she was still the only one. 


	3. The Unfortunate One

(Note: MAJOR thanks to Hurricane's Sidekick for helping me sort out this chapter. ^_^)

03. 

Trish sat in the bed, the window wide open. It was a chilly December night, and she could hear the leaves rattling against the windowpane and the howling wind cause a breeze around her bare feet. 

"You oughta shut that," Stephanie said, flipping through a magazine. 

"Why can't you?" 

"I am the Billion Dollar Princess." 

Trish muttered something under her breath and rolled over. She would suffer with the cold. It kind of brought warmness towards her, actually. It made her feel as if the pain she were feeling was slowly being taken out of her. 

"When is Hunter coming back?" She asked. Her voice was muffled against her pillow, but she didn't care. She was sure Stephanie heard her. 

"Don't know. But you better be prepared," She said idly, as if she were amused at what Hunter would do to Trish next. She really did get a kick out of it. 

Trish sat up quickly at that, feeling alarmed. "What for? What did I do now?" She didn't know what Hunter was ticked off about now, but she was sure she didn't do anything. He didn't know that Benoit had come to see her…Did he? 

Stephanie rolled her eyes and set her magazine down. "Don't ask me. I am not involved in this pathetic little soap opera that you guys call a life." She inspected her ruby nails. "Listen." She said. "Just sleep with one eye open." 

Such words of wisdom. 

*

Raven sat next to Hunter in the bar, mournfully taking tiny sips of his Screwdriver. "Drink up," He heard an intoxicated Game say as he downed his fourth beer. 

"Easy man," Raven said. Hunter glared at Raven, but didn't say any more. Raven decided to mind his own business. Hunter eyed the Screwdriver. "Is it any good?" He asked, nodding in the direction towards the drink. 

Raven made a face. "It's bitter," He said. But he took another sip. 

"Then why drink it?" Hunter asked stupidly. He scratched his dirty blonde locks, trying to find a cure for his itch. 

"Because it's like life." Raven said, predictably. 

Hunter got up, and almost fell to the floor. _That's what you get when you don't drink responsibly, _Raven smirked to himself. He pushed his drink aside and left a five dollar bill on the counter. _I need to watch this. Hunter is going to make an ass out of himself._

"You know where Benoit is?" Hunter asked, dragging his lead filled legs towards the elevator. 

Raven rolled his eyes. "Last I saw him, he was walking towards your room." After the words escaped his mouth, he knew it was a mistake. Especially when Hunter turned purple. 

"That bastard is going to die!" Hunter vowed. Suddenly, his drunken state was loss. It was all rage now. Rage and anger. He practically ran towards the elevator, and Raven had no choice but to follow. 

"I should have kept my fucking mouth shut," Raven whispered to himself. 

*

Hunter didn't have time for slipping the ID card into the hotel room door. He kicked the door in, to find Stephanie had left some time ago, and Trish was asleep. Hunter growled. "WHERE'S BENOIT?" He bellowed. 

That instantly woke Trish up. Her eyes widened, and she found herself unable to speak. Raven desperately wished to turn on his heel and go, but he found himself rooted to the spot. 

"Raven," She whispered, shock, "you bastard! How could you—?"

Hunter knelt down to the end of the bed where Trish lay. "You didn't answer me, Trish. You're allowed to speak now. Where is he?" He yanked her hair up, making her cry out. "I…I…Don't know. Honestly, Hunter." She felt tears well up in her eyes. 

"Well, get a clue and know," He hissed, he threw her head back down on the mattress. Raven stood there, unable to speak himself. "You," Hunter hissed, "you have the job of getting me the sorry ass of Benoit." 

Raven shook his head. "Hunter, I don't have anything to do with this." Raven couldn't believe that he was trembling with fear. Hunter smirked. "You want to get friendly with my sledgehammer? You caused this shit, now you go get him. _Now._" 

Very unfortunately for Benoit, he just happened to be passing by. 

"Never mind," Hunter said, pushing Raven out of the way. Hunter stood in the way of Benoit. "You mother fucker. Want me to take your ass out now? Or should I just kill you with my raw bloody hands?" 

Benoit looked at him, shocked. "What the fuck—?" He never got to finish that sentence, as he was met with a thunderous crack to the head, courtesy of the sledgehammer. 

"Holy shit," Raven whispered. Trish screamed a bloodcurdling scream. 

The blood seeped through the fingers of Benoit, who surprised himself by being alive. All he felt was the same pain in his head. He couldn't feel anything from the neck down. He didn't feel the violent kicks that HHH was delivering to his stomach, or the repeated slams of the hammer on his legs. 

He did hear, though, the whimpers of an astonished Raven, and the repeated cries of "no more! Stop!" by Trish. And the worst of all was the sadistic laughter of the Cerebral Assassin. 

"Stop!" Trish screamed, her voice breaking. Tears streamed down her face and made her gag. "Stop! No more! You're killing him," She exclaimed, screaming and crying and kicking on the bed. 

Hunter stopped his torture on Benoit for a moment. "You watch, you bitch. Watch your man die in the hands of the Game, whore." He threw his sledgehammer down on the floor and kicked Benoit one last time. He spit on him. 

"Come on, Trish." Hunter grabbed Trish. He dragged her down the stairs, occasionally yelling at her to shut up. "What about Benoit?" She whispered as he yanked her forward. 

"He'll lead a nice life in hell." 


	4. Hold My Hand

04. 

"What were you thinking?" Hunter asked calmly. But Trish knew better than to trust his calm composure. She knew he was psycho. He knelt down to face to her, to see her eye to eye. "What were you thinking?" He whispered again. 

Trish struggled away from him. "Get away," She whispered. "I don't want to look at you." Hunter frowned. "So, is that how it is?" He pushed her head back to look at him. "I get Benoit off your hands and you get pissy." 

"What did you do to help me?" Trish demanded, feeling a sudden wave of courage against Hunter. "Benoit is my friend! You killed him!" 

Hunter rolled his eyes. "I didn't _kill_ him. He's probably still alive, unfortunately." Trish stood up so fast, that the chair she was sitting fell over. She faced him, which was hard, considering he was a foot taller than she was.

"How can you live with yourself, knowing that you're a sick bastard?" Trish asked. No emotion was in her voice. She just wanted to know the answer—And she wanted to know now. "How?" She asked, her voice rising. 

He glared at her. "You have the gall to say that to me after I took your sorry ass in?" He roared. "You DARE say that to me?" 

"Oh, fuck you, Hunter!" Trish screamed. "Why the fuck did I let you walk all over me in the first place? I can hold my own very well without you!" 

He laughed. It surprised Trish, as she thought he was going to throw her against the wall. Though his laugh was calm, it was crazy and sadistic. "Sure, Trish. Go out on your own. But once you're back here on your knees begging me, I am not going to take you back." 

"I would never even DREAM of coming back," Said Trish. She slammed the door behind her, hopefully leaving for good. 

*

Benoit moaned and clutched his head. He was lucky to be alive. It had been a half-hour since the attack, and no one came to help him yet. "Fuck," he muttered. He had to keep his hands on the gash on his head. It hurt like a bitch when it hit solid ground. 

He still couldn't feel anything below his neck. He didn't know if he was hearing things or not, but he thought he heard a faint sounds of high heeled boots. He also saw a familiar blonde woman running down the hall. 

"Trish?" She knelt down next to him, hovering over him. She slipped off her jacket. She gently took his hands from behind his head and wrapped her jacket around it. He was still bleeding. Her jacket was ruined, but she didn't care. 

She nodded meekly. "I am so sorry," She whispered. "I am so sorry I didn't come fast enough." He tried to nod himself, but it hurt so much. "I-it's okay," he croaked, "as long as you're here. Are you okay?" 

Trish wanted to cry from his concern. "Yeah," She gulped, "I got away from Hunter." She gave him a warm smile and held his hand. "I called the ambulance. They'll be here soon." 

Chris returned the smile. "I am so happy for you." His hand felt limp in hers. "Hey," He said, shaking weakly, "after I get my head sown back together, would you like to go out for coffee?" 

Trish laughed, swallowing her tears. "I'd like that." She nodded. Before she could say anything else, the ambulance rushed to the scene. 

"Miss," One man said as they loaded Benoit onto the stretcher, "only immediate family is allowed on the ambulance with him. Are you his wife?" 

"No," Trish shook her head sadly. 

"Guys," Benoit said, "let her come." 


	5. I'll Stand By You

05. 

"Here." Trish leaned over the hospital bed. "I brought you flowers." She placed a vase of yellow colored flowers on the nightstand. 

"It's what I always wanted," Chris laughed. He looked over at the flowers. "I like yellow," He added quickly. "Sun flowers?" 

"Daisies." 

"Top choice." He gave her the thumbs up. 

She rolled her eyes. "Hey, give me credit. I am not a guy. Thus, I don't know what they like." He shrugged. "Okay, I'll be nice." He leaned back on the pillow. It was bandaged, so he still didn't feel anything when he lay down. 

It was extremely awkward, them staring at each other. He smiled at her without her noticing. She was sitting on a chair, wearing another trenchcoat. It was black. Her legs were crossed, and she was looking at her lap, picking lint off her pants. 

"So…" Benoit trailed off. 

"So…" She repeated. 

"Were you in the ambulance with me?" 

"Yeah." 

"I didn't see you." 

"You were unconscious." 

"Figures." 

She smiled at him. He smiled at her. And they both stared at their laps. The nurse poked her head into the room. She looked at the two adults, staring at each other and not saying a word. She laughed. 

"Talkative, aren't we?" She smiled. "I'd hate to break up this gabfest, Mr. Benoit and company, but the doctor wants you in physical therapy now." Chris sighed. "Okay." He turned to Trish. "Come visit me later, will you?" 

She smiled and nodded. She kissed him on the cheek. "I will." She leaned into his ear. "I'll stand by you," She whispered. And she left. 

*

"Son of a bitch." Hunter clicked off the TV. "This is sick." Stephanie filed her nails, not really caring what happened. "Relax, Hunter. I thought you didn't care if Trish came back or not, or whatever she did with her pathetic life." 

Hunter glared at her. "For your information, I DO like Trish. And I do care." He paused. "I like her chest, too." Stephanie rolled her eyes. 

"Why don't you go over to the hospital and finish the job?" Stephanie suggested. "I am sick of staying cooped up in this damn hotel." 

"Won't they think it odd if I have a sledgehammer with me in the fucking hospital?" Hunter asked, annoyed at his wife's stupidity. 

"Oh yeah." She shrugged. 

He rolled his eyes. "Don't you worry, Steph. I have a plan. And I won't even have to touch Benoit." 

*

Trish arrived in her own hotel room she had checked herself into earlier that night. She threw her belongings onto the chair and clicked on her TV. She forgot that Smackdown was on. She looked at her stomach. She was getting hungry, too. 

"I'll call room service," She decided. Just as she was about to pick up the phone, it rang. It was a shrill ring. She jumped. "Hello?" She asked cautiously. 

"Hi, Trish." It was Hunter. 

Trish flinched. She felt her blood freeze from his voice. She had an odd feeling that she knew this man. She wanted to hang up, but curiosity get the better of her, and she held onto the phone tightly. 

"W-Who is this?" 

"Consider it a voice from your past." 

"Hunter?" 

"Shit. My cover's blown." 

"What the fuck do you want? Don't ever call me." 

"Shut up, don't get your saline in a twist. Hear me out, okay? Listen." Hunter reached for his sledgehammer. "Listening?" 

Trish nodded, but realized he couldn't see it. So she stumbled on her words. "Y-Y-Yeah. Now what is this all about?"

"Listen." He said again. "Now, I am not near Benoit right now, but I found an interesting piece of news. He's still alive. So…Here's what I want you do." 

"Why would I want to do anything for you, you sick fuck?" Trish asked, her voice rising. 

"You will if you want to see Benoit alive again, you will." 

She paused. She did know what Hunter was capable of. Killing was in his league. And he would go after Benoit again, she was sure of it. 

"W-What do you want me to do?" Trish asked. She almost tripped over a chair. She would so anything. If it saved Benoit from the wrath of Hunter…

Hunter sneered. He had Trish on the palm of his hand, right where he wanted her. "Come back to me." 

"Never." Trish screamed. 

"Fine then. Benoit dies. Tonight." 


	6. Back on my Knees

06. 

She couldn't believe she stooped this low again. To be back on her knees; begging. She swore she'd never do it again. She broke her promise. Here she was in front of Hunter, on her knees. She was crying. 

"Shut up, bitch. You'll draw attention to yourself." Hunter kicked her in the side. "Glad to see you came to your senses. Didn't want to see your beloved Benoit dead, would you?" 

Trish looked up at him. She was a mess. Her lipstick was smudged, her mascara was running, and her clothes were wrinkled. She blinked her tears. She shook her head. "No," She mumbled. Hunter smirked. "That's what I thought." 

He told her to get up off her knees, and she scrambled to her feet. He stroked a hand over her cheek lovingly. "Good to have you back," He whispered. His breath made her froze. She leaned her head against the couch, wondering what she did to deserve this. 

*

Chris frowned. He was lonely. He missed her, as he looked right through the daises. "Maybe I can call her," He mused. He reached for the phone and sat up. Dialing away her cell phone number, he smiled. He was never good with numbers, but he remembered hers like it was his own. 

*

Trish's cell phone rang. _Yes, distraction._ She thought excitedly. She reached to answer it, but Hunter grabbed it. "Give me that. I will be answering your calls from now on." Before she had a chance to protest, he had answered it. 

"Trish Stratus's line." He grumbled. _He's so professional,_ Trish thought miserably. 

"What the fuck? Hunter?" Benoit asked, wishing he could get out of the bed on his own. 

Hunter smirked. "Stay in bed, Benoit. You aren't going anywhere." 

"You bastard! Where's Trish?" 

"With me. Where she wants to be." 

"WHAT?!" Benoit screamed. "Put her on the phone!"

Hunter grinned maliciously as he handed Trish her phone. "You're man whore wants to talk to you." Trish shot him a death glare. "Hello?" Her voice croaked. 

"Trish," Benoit whispered, sounding hurt. "Why…?" 

She bit her lip. "I couldn't turn him down. He said that if I didn't, he'd kill you." 

"I should have died, then, Trish!" 

"NO!" Trish screamed. "I would never let him hurt you like that," Her voice was sharp and quick, like a bow and arrow. Benoit sighed. "You're so stupid, Trish. He is just going to kill me anyway. And you, too."

Trish almost dropped the phone. She never thought of that…And Benoit was probably right… "Oh my god," She whispered. "Benoit, I—" 

Hunter clicked her phone off. "That's enough phone time for today." 

"I wasn't finished," She hissed. 

He shrugged. "When you're with me, you follow MY rules." He explained. She frowned. "I don't like your rules. I don't want to be here. I want to go home!" She yelled. 

Hunter laughed. "You made the sacrifice. You sacrificed yourself for Benoit deal with it."

"No! You're just going to kill him anyway." I glared at him. 

"Well guess who just solved the puzzle?" He smirked. He pulled out his sledgehammer. She jerked up, and started moving back. 

He shook his head. "You were always too damn smart for me Trish. I thought I found the girl of my dreams when I met you. And you were everything I dreamed of and more. But then we…We drifted apart." He touched her shoulder. She backed into a wall. 

"And now," Hunter grinned, "we must part." She screamed, but he covered her mouth with his hand. He slammed the sledgehammer into her stomach repeatedly. He then cracked it against her back, making her fall to the floor. She was coughing up blood. 

He kicked her. "Damn it," He groaned. "What does it take to kill you?" And with another crack of his sledgehammer, Trish Stratus was dead. 

Hunter laughed at her lifeless body. "Stratusfaction guaranteed, huh, Trish?" 

*

Hunter slipped into the hospital that night. He held his gun under his jacket. "I am here to see Mr. Chris Benoit," The woman at the reception files, sighed. "Room 214. Make it quick, because he's ill." 

"Oh, it'll be very quick." Hunter smiled, patting the gun. He walked down the hall. He opened the door to 214. "Knock, knock," He grinned. Chris was on the bed, flipping the channels. 

"Shit!" Chris screamed, jumping. "Get the fuck out of here!"

Hunter rolled his eyes. "Just thought I'd informed you that Trish is dead." Benoit's eyes widened. "YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" He screamed. "How…Could you?" 

"I got a little help from Mr. Hammer. First name, Sledge." 

Benoit's eyes flickered. Then his face twisted into a sadistic grin, identical to Hunter's. "So we finally got her out of the picture, yeah?" Benoit unwrapped his head. It was as fine as ever. 

Hunter nodded. "Yeah…I tell you, it was a long, drawn out stretched terror. But she's finally dead." 

"Thank god." 

Benoit and Hunter shared a handshake of victory. 

--Fin 

*


End file.
